


On the Seventh Day of Winterfair

by Rose_Milburn



Series: The AU life of Ivan Xav Vorpatril [14]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Milburn/pseuds/Rose_Milburn
Summary: Actions have consequences
Series: The AU life of Ivan Xav Vorpatril [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1001307
Comments: 28
Kudos: 50





	On the Seventh Day of Winterfair

**Author's Note:**

> Wishing everyone a Very Merry Winterfair.
> 
> Ivan Ivanovitch is the Russian equivalent of John Doe

Count Ivan Vorpatril Voralys hadn’t stood to such rigid attention since his days as a lowly captain at OpsHQ. It made little difference that Lord Auditor Vorkosigan was braced up on his right and Byerly Vorrutyer stood tall and stiff to his left. It was deadly silent in the Emperor of Three Worlds’ office as the man himself sat behind his desk and inspected them. The atmosphere would have been better suited to Kiril Island than Vorbarr Sultana a week after Winterfair. They were all three of them in the deepest of deep shit. Just _how_ deep remained to be seen.

Gregor Vorbarra continued to look at them over his steepled fingers. It was impossible to tell what his thoughts were. Ivan couldn’t remember him appearing to be so devoid of emotion since Count Aral’s funeral. It didn’t take a huge leap of deduction to work out that he was _not_ a happy man.

Finally the emperor flicked a finger at the flimsie on the desk in front of him. “Tell me,” he said, in a voice as emotionless as some info-bot at the shuttle port, “tell me how I so badly failed my son that the three of you found it necessary to come to his rescue like…this.”

The bottom fell out of Ivan’s world. Being flayed alive would be better than this. He felt the blood drain from his face and had to swallow hard before he could answer. “Sire, No! You haven’t failed Xav. It’s all my fault.”

He dimly heard Miles beside him parrot, “It’s all my fault.” Byerly, all traces of cynicism gone, his voice almost unrecognisable, repeated the sentence a bare split second after the two of them but added more.

“It’s all my fault, Sire. I’m the one who arranged it all.”

“But it was my idea,” Ivan added. He never took his gaze from Gregor’s face.

Miles held up his hands. “It was all of us. We discussed it.”

“But _why_?”

Gregor wasn’t angry, Ivan understood suddenly. It was more like bewilderment. How could he explain to the emperor that his son just longed to be one of the lads?

“We wanted him to be safe. Xav…He wanted…he wanted to be like Padma, and Alex, and be as uncomplicated and sure of himself as Belpierre.”

“And not have three Vorbarra armsmen watching,” Byerly Vorrutyer added. “Sire, he just wants to be like any other late teenager whose hormones are driving his decisions.”

“And he couldn’t tell me?” Gregor jumped up from his chair suddenly. “Yuri’s shit! sit down and explain this all to me.” He crossed over to the conversation area by the window. He still looked pale, but at least there was a trace of expression on his face now.

Ivan had _never_ heard him swear so crudely. All of a sudden he wasn’t their emperor any more. He was a bewildered father, just like the rest of them.

“Gregor, we’re sorry you’ve been blindsided like this. It was the only way. Xav refused to talk to you. We tried. Really we did.” They all nodded like six year olds trying not to be the one to get in trouble. “It started with Padma, you see. Roic caught him at Vorkosigan House with one of the laundry maids. He said he never would have interrupted if he’d realised who it was, but that’s half of the problem. No one would even care if any old Ivan Ivanovich was bedded by a laundry maid. When it was Padma Voralys all of a sudden it was a big deal. Can you just imagine the carry on if it was Xav Vorbarra?”

Miles leaned forward, as vibrant and earnest as ever. “Did you realise Xav thinks _you_ think he’s another Serg? I know he looks like him, but that’s all, Gregor. The only resemblance to your father is skin deep. He’s completely normal, and from the reports we got, very gentle and caring.”

Gregor sounded totally horrified. “Wait, _what?_ You got _reports_ on my son? From whom? ImpSec?”

Miles shook his head. “ImpSec knows nothing about it, except that there was a party and the Crown Prince was invited. That’s the beauty of using Voralys House. If we hadn’t told you, you’d never have found out, because the Vorbarra armsmen were on the outer perimeter, too.”

Byerly spoke up. “It was Sela’s scheme, Sire. I thought it was brilliant. There’s a Lord Vordagger fan club tour in town at the moment for _Winterfair in the Dungeons_ at Vorrutyer House. We rounded up ten volunteers for a focus group.”

“A focus group?” Gregor’s voice sounded faint, but he soldiered on. “Please explain.”

Byerly tipped his hand to Ivan. “Do you want to do it?”

It was the very last thing Ivan wanted to do, but he nodded. “We needed to find sexually mature, attractive people above the age of consent who wouldn’t recognise the Crown Prince or any of the rest of them on sight, and who wouldn’t be around for too long afterwards. Preferably people with no hang-ups about casual sex, too. Who better than Betans? We got them to comment on the casting choices for the new Lord Vordagger holo that Raine’s got in the wings just now. We’re calling it _Lord Vordagger’s awakening._ It’s set right at the start of his adventures. They were utterly thrilled to have been asked. We even managed to snaffle a few herms for Belpierre.”

Gregor actually clutched at his hair. “What about security? Don’t you realise the danger you put Xav in?”

“No one knew he was Xav. They were all called Ivan for the night. There were no weapons, no bio-agents and no psychopaths. Sela screened them all. We took _every_ precaution, Gregor.”

“Indeed.” Miles nodded in agreement. “We even had them sequester their genetic material. My mother’s vid on prophylactics came in very handy for that angle. Do you remember it? How could you forget? There’s no chance of any clones, if that’s what you’re worried about. We debriefed them all afterwards. Alex was their first choice. He was Ivan A, then Xav, who was Ivan D and Padma, Ivan B, was third. The volunteers who evaluated Belpierre were ecstatic about him but ruled him out as Lord Vordagger.”

Gregor shook his head. “Did they…did they _all_ —no, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Byerly answered with a straight face. “I’m sure the lads would have had enough stamina for it, but there were time restraints. We settled on three random reports on each. We had very rigid research standards.”

Ivan bit his lip. The atmosphere lightened marginally. “Xav was well impressed. He wants to repeat the experiment with the next tour through. _I_ think you should send him off to the Orb, myself. Incognito, of course. The thing that impressed him the most was that he came out ahead of Ivan B. Apparently my son and heir had got a bit too…er…cocksure of himself, you might say.”

Miles was very quick on the uptake, as usual. “Don’t be too hard on him, Ivan. I don’t think Padma was expecting such stiff opposition, truth be told.”

Byerly shrugged. “Well, they’re bound to have a few ups and downs, aren’t they? You couldn’t call any of them skilled in that department yet, could you? Even Belpierre is still a novice.”

Gregor didn’t smile, but some more of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “What the hell do I tell Laisa if she gets wind of this?”

The three of them looked at each other. Byerly found some courage. “Well, one, she won’t, and two, if she does just tell her Xav auditioned for a role in the next _Lord Vordagger the Long_ movie but came up short. That should divert her attention, worrying if there’s something wrong with him.”

It looked like they were wriggling off the hook. Ivan went on. “If it’s any consolation, the Betans told us that they can’t tell one Barrayaran from another, because we all look the same to them, so even if rumours do get out they won’t be able to name names. _Your_ conscience is perfectly clear. No one can accuse _you_ of perverting the morals of the young, can they? You knew nothing about it. We kind of decided asking for forgiveness would be a whole lot better than asking for permission.”

Gregor just sighed. “I don’t suppose I need ask what Xav, Alex, Padma and Belpierre thought about it all.”

Ivan laughed. “Best Winterfair ever, they said. I’m as jealous as hell. Why didn’t we have any wicked uncles to pervert our morals when we were growing up?”

“Yours didn’t need any more perverting, Ivan.” Miles rose to his feet. “We’ll go while we’ve still got our heads. Just have a chat to Xav, will you, Gregor? Tell him you know he’s not like Serg. He loves you so much and he feels like he’s disappointing you.”

“How could he do any such thing? He could never disappoint me. I need to mend fences with my son, and it looks like I also needed three wise men to tell me that.” Gregor obviously had some thinking to do. “Thank you, Ivan. Thank you, Byerly, and thank you, Miles. Happy Winterfair. Oh, and Vorrutyer, make sure you send those research reports through for Our eyes only.”

The door sighed shut behind them. Ivan looked at the other two. “I told you everything would turn out fine, but quick, let’s run, before he changes his mind, and definitely before he sees what By’s rigid research criteria were.”


End file.
